


Sometimes, Charities Can Be Such a Drag

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Series: It's For a Case [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, Charity Auctions, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Greg, Crossdressing Kink, Crossdressing Sherlock, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, Heavy Petting, Lace Panties, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sherlock, crossdressing John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Greg dress in drag for a charity auction. Of course Sherlock is John's highest bidder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes, Charities Can Be Such a Drag

“Why the hell am I doing this again?” John sucked in his stomach while Greg zipped up the back of his dress.

“Because you want to help support the charity and Anderson wouldn’t.” Greg stepped back and smiled at John. “You should wear heels more often, you’ve got the calves for it.”

John turned to glare at Greg, but stopped. The inspector was standing in a curly brunette wig, red halter top and a tight leather skirt that immediately would have made John adjust himself if he wasn’t already tucked.

Greg caught him staring and took a step back, drawing John’s attention to sexy heeled boots. “Been a while, but glad to see I still got it.”

“I would say you do,” John smoothed his own dress and moved to the mirror, smiling at the sight of himself in the short blond wig and red dress. He’d neglected to tell Greg he’d already owned these things because of an earlier case.

“Come on then, don’t want to be late,” Greg pulled on a leather jacket that completed his ensemble. John shook his head and followed him out.

They caught a cab to the pub that was holding the event. Greg led them in through the back. John relaxed a bit as he saw the others in drag, some of them better looking ladies than others. There was a buzz of excitement in the air. Someone gave John a drink as he followed Greg and he happily downed it while a statuesque woman called everyone around.

“Rules are simple. It’s an auction for a drink with one of you fine ladies. You go out there, strut your stuff and once everyone’s had a looksie we’ll start the auction.” She pointed at a list on the wall. “Here’s the order we’re going in. There’s quite a few of you and we’re not starting right away, so you’ve got time to relax.”

John looked at the list and found he and Greg were near the bottom. Greg took his hand and led him to a seat in the corner. John blinked as he realized Greg had a hand on his thigh. It was warm and comfortable. He smiled at the inspector, wondering just how much time they had before they had to be on stage.

“More than enough,” a familiar voice stood over them. John looked up and realized it was Sherlock under the wig and makeup….and glorious black dress. Talk about legs for days…

“Decided to join us?” asked Greg with an easy grin.

“Simply exploring my options to purchase.” Sherlock offered John a hand. “There is a private dressing room just down this hall that is unoccupied.”

John accepted his help with a warm smile. Greg looked at the two of them. “As lovely as this is, I think one of us should keep an eye on the queue. I’ll knock when it’s almost John’s turn.”

Sherlock nodded, put his hands on John’s waist and guided him down the narrow corridor. John pulled Sherlock down for a kiss as the door closed. Hands pulled him down onto Sherlock’s lap, familiar long finger reaching under his skirt to fondle his cock through his pants. John moaned softly, biting his lip to keep this noises down.

John thought he must be dreaming. Sherlock wore a perfume that reminded him of a girl he’d dated in uni. Okay, she’d dated all the rugby players, but they’d had fun for a couple of weeks anyway. “I will win your auction,” said Sherlock in his ear. “But I do believe I will claim more than a drink.”

“Might just go home with you, if you’re lucky,” muttered John, turning in Sherlock’s lap and kissing him deeply, tangling his fingers in the curly hair.

Sherlock’s kisses tasted better than usual. They moaned against one another, Sherlock’s hands squeezing John’s arse underneath his dress as they kissed slowly. It was like they had all the time in the world.

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Come on you two, you’ll have plenty of time after. If you’re not out in two, I’ve got my mobile set to record.”

John pulled away, smiling at Sherlock. “Well, if you do manage to win me, we’ll have to continue this at home.” He looked towards the mirror and fixed his wig as he stood. Sherlock straightened his dress. He kissed John’s neck and reached for the door.

Greg was leaning against the wall, munching on an apple he’d found somewhere. “You go on after the next, John I’d get up front. They’ve got me last.”

“See you on the floor,” said Sherlock, taking John’s hand and kissing it before heading down the corridor.

John watched him go until Greg gave him a nudge. A bit anxiously, he made his way towards the front. The woman running the show tsked and fixed his dress. Then he was stepping out onto a stage. There were a few catcalls and whistles as he walked across the stage, doing a spin and no doubt turning bright red before he joined the others at the far end. He looked out at the crowd, but didn’t see Sherlock.

Two others came out and did their turn before Greg stepped out. There were even more catcalls and whistles and John couldn’t help feeling like Greg was owning the stage. It made John wonder where exactly he’d learned to do that as he crossed over and stood next to him, giving John a wink.

They started the auction after that, bids varying wildly. At least the charity was going to be getting a bundle for all of this. Finally it was John’s turn and he attempted to strut, mostly just managing to not fall over in the heels and make a bigger fool of himself than he already felt in this outfit. He blushed all over again as the price went up and he rather hoped Sherlock would be able to pull it off.

“Sold!” called the woman leading it, pointing. John was rather relieved that it was Sherlock who paid and helped him down from stage.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in John’s ear, leading him off to the side.

“I want to see what happens with Greg,” John turned in his arms to face the stage.

They didn’t have long to wait. Greg strutted confidently to the middle of the stage, took off his jacket and turned his back to the crowd, winking over his shoulder. “Where the hell did he learn to do that?” muttered John.

“I believe he was in a play in uni,” said Sherlock.

“Rocky Horror Picture Show, maybe? Somehow I can see that,” John smiled softly as the inspector moved next to the auctioneer. The bidding was fierce, but as just as it seemed to be reaching it’s peak a new and commanding voice outbid them all. The place went quiet as the suited man walked up to claim his prize.

John’s jaw dropped. “Mycroft? I didn’t...What…?”

“Obvious,” said Sherlock, taking John’s arm and pulling him to a table. “I do believe I am owed a drink.”

Pulling his attention away, John took a seat. He reached over and put a hand on Sherlock’s knee under the table. “A drink, yes.”

As the drinks were delivered to the table, Sherlock leaned closer to John. “Was that lace under your dress?”

John grinned back at him. “You’ll have to take a closer look, won’t you.”

“I shall have to take you home, then. Unless you’d prefer me to take you right here and now on this table.”

John bit his lip, not quite covering a moan as his cock definitely twitched. “Not quite ready for that level of exhibitionism. Let’s get a cab.”

Leaving the drinks untouched, John held his hand and followed him outside. Sherlock soon summoned a cab. They sat close together, Sherlock rubbing his ankle against John’s calf, sending a frisson of pleasure up his body with every bump in the road.

Finally they arrived at Baker Street. John paid the cabbie and got out with as much dignity and elegance as he could muster, turning around to watch Sherlock. The detective moved with easy grace, of course, leaning in to kiss his neck as John got the door open. “Walk up the stairs slowly,” said Sherlock, stopping at the bottom.

John smiled and headed up, leaning a bit on the railing. As he reached the landing he turned and smiled at Sherlock before heading up the next flight. Sherlock followed him up and into the flat, wrapping an arm around John’s waist and closing the door as he scented his hair.

Moaning softly, John leaned back in his arms, trusting. Sherlock kissed his neck, hand slipping under the dress to fondle him through the pants. “Lace indeed,” he said, voice gone deep and rough with desire.

It was only a few steps to the bedroom. Sherlock lay John back on the bed, admiring him. “Wait here.” He stepped into the bathroom.

John watched the door, idly touching his cock, dragging his palm through the pre-cum, thinking of the way the stockings felt against his skin. Sherlock stepped out finally, divested of his own costume and looking like himself. He licked his lips as he looked at John like a conquest. “I need you, John Watson.”

With a smile, John pushed down the tight lace panties and spread his legs, skirt riding up. “Come and take me,” he said quietly, watching his lover.

Sherlock crossed the room in two steps, kneeling at the end of the bed and tossing John’s legs over his shoulders as he went down on him all at once. John shouted and buried his blunt fingers in Sherlock’s hair, rocking  up against him. Sherlock’s large hands gripped his thighs, thumbs stroking his entrance, making John gasp and writhe beneath him, overwhelmed.

“Jesus,” moaned John, crossing his ankles behind Sherlock’s head.

Humming appreciatively, Sherlock opened a bottle of lube and slicked his fingers. John groaned as a long finger pressed inside, trying to relax and breathe and not doing either of those things particularly well.

“John,” Sherlock pulled off his cock and raised his head.

Opening his eyes, John met his gaze, seeing the lust and love writ large in the pale eyes. He smiled softly and let go of a breath, feeling his lover stretching him. Keeping John’s eyes locked on his own, Sherlock leaned down again to lick the pre-cum pooling at his slit.

“You’re gorgeous,” panted John. Another long finger joined the first and his eyes closed and head rocked back. A moment later a cry tore from his lips as the fingers crooked and stroked his prostate. He dropped his legs and spread them wider, wanting to give Sherlock everything, pumping his hips he thought he might just come from the sensations alone.

“Not yet,” said Sherlock, in that unnerving way that was almost too close to reading John’s mind. The bed dipped as he moved up, claiming John’s flushed and bitten lips with a heated kiss, tongue penetrating his mouth as thoroughly as his fingers penetrated his body. John’s hands grabbed at the sheets, helpless and intoxicated by the man moving over him.

Slowly Sherlock’s fingers withdrew, replaced a moment later by the blunt head of his cock. “Yes,” hissed John, releasing the sheets to grab at the detective’s shoulders, scoring the pale skin. Sherlock sunk inside, groaning against John’s ear as his body welcomed him, until he was fully seated and John’s legs wrapped around his waist. He started off moving slowly, almost reverently.

“More, Sherlock, please,” John tried to rock against him.

“I have you,” whispered Sherlock mouthing against his neck,holding John tightly. He started moving faster, driving groans of pleasure from John’s lips. The nails dug a little deeper, drawing pin pricks of blood from his pale skin and neither of them noticing in the haze of pleasure surrounding them.

John’s cock dragged slickly along Sherlock’s stomach as they moved together. Swearing, John felt his orgasm nearing, his body tightening. Then he was coming between them, hot and sticky and wet. Sherlock groaned as John’s body spasmed around his cock. He raised his head to kiss John as he came himself, unable to hold back. One hand tangled in John’s hair, pulling the wig aside to get at his locks. Sherlock grasped his hair as if trying to ground himself, as if trying to prove that all of this was real.

Coming back to himself, John smoothed his hands down Sherlock’s back. His lover trembled in his arms, moving his hands to cup John’s face and kiss him deeply. Carefully Sherlock pulled out and gathered John in his arms, kissing his eyelids, then his nose.

John smiled and stroked his hair. “It’s all right,” he said softly.

Humming contentedly, Sherlock settled them under the covers, holding John against his chest as if afraid he’d drift away. John was used to this, knew that no matter how confident he might appear, Sherlock was always a bit afraid. Of losing John, of losing what they had. John raised his head and kissed him one more time before drifting away to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually inspired by [Rupert Graves in drag](http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lnz3o09WSH1qja1bno1_500.png). Much thanks to themadkatter13, beautifullyheeled, beltainefaire and type_40_consulting_detective
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
